Likely Story
by suckerforasmile
Summary: Nick proves he's not 'the girl.' Slash, NG...
1. Chapter 1

_I don't own and yadda. And also, don't worry._

They were drunk, and no, it hadn't happened on purpose. Nick is pretty sure that Greg was still half - or more - sober, considering his speech was fine. It came as a surprise to Nick, that he was almost out cold but Greg was still standing.

What's even more surprising to him is that they're on the topic of sex. Pure sex; all out, screwing like bunnies sex. And Nick finds it interesting how he's holding back, but Greg's not and Greg's still sober.

Nick finds himself taking note of everything, every little thing, Greg does or says, trying to figure out if the subtext is there or not. Greg's lips aren't moving, but Nick's still staring.

"So, Nicky, how do you like it?" his coworker finally asks, after a bout of silence. Nick raises an eyebrow, the numbness of the muscles in his face and neck hitting him full force. "How do you like sex?"

"No, uh-uh," Nick chuckles, setting the bottle down and falling backwards to stare at the ceiling and he's glad he has tomorrow night off, or he'd never make it through shift. "Not answering that."

"Why not? We're both guys,"

"Exactly. Guys don't talk about sex with other guys," Greg howls with laughter, stinging Nick's eardrums, and he'd cover his ears if they weren't preoccupied already, keeping him from doing anything tell-tale, e.g. touching himself.

"Are you kidding me? It's, like..." Greg shakes his head with more laughter, lighter this time, and Nick tries to think of a comeback but his head hurts already and he can't. There's silence as Greg quietly takes sips from his bottle, slowly, and Nick's still paying attention to every thing that he does. "Bet you like it rough," he thinks outloud, and Nick cocks an eyebrow at him. "Sex," he says, not even bothering to blink. Nick senses the blush before he feels it, and Greg smiles. "So I was right. How do you get her into bed, get her to get so...down and dirty?"

"I'm not having this conversation," Nick laughs-slash-groans, and he can't believe he's having it; the entire night seems so surreal to him, but he's sure that's the alcohol just getting to him, putting a foggy effect on everything, making it seem like a dream. _I'm lying in bed. Bed bed bed. _Nick considers trying to click his heels together and think 'there's no place like home' but he knows that's just being desperate, and besides, there's a part of him that wants to see where the night - well, _his_ night - ends up.

Greg's set his bottle on the coffee table, and Nick looks up at the sound. Greg's staring at him intently, and Nick doesn't dare break eye contact, afraid he'll ruin everything. It goes on for a while, and Nick didn't know he was ever so interesting. "Come on, man. Spill your secrets," there's that familiar twinkle in his eye and Nick's not completely sure what to think of it anymore; it's always there when there's touching or engaging in what Nick so fondly calls 'subtext,' but it's not there when he's feeding Ecklie or any of the other CSIs some shit about his job, and it's definitely not there when he talks to the lab techs, Mandy and Wendy - hell, even Archie and Nick knows Greg's closer to Archie than him - and Nick wonders what makes him so special. If he wasn't trying to glue his mouth shut, he'd ask.

He can't hold his head up much longer, and so he breaks eye contact, guilty, and lolls it around on the floor for a while, thinking about what he should tell Greg. Make things up, tell him that he hasn't had sex since Kristy? Make things up, tell him that he's gotten laid by tons of women? Make things up, tell him he's gotten amazing sex since Kristy? Or does he tell him the truth, that the women he's had sex with didn't compare to the men, and that the men weren't nearly as attractive as the CSI sitting on his couch in front of him? Nick decides easily he has to lie.

"Or, you know..." Greg shrugs, twinkle still in his eye and Nick's not sure if he's flirting or teasing when he finishes. "You could just show me," Nick's sitting up before he knows it, and Greg's suddenly inches from him. Nick feels that burning feeling in his throat, that sensation that makes him feel like...

"Greg, I have...I have to..." he can't even finish the sentence and he knows it's going to come out anyway, and he's not sure what it's going to look like once he does. Greg may be disgusted, he may enjoy it, but Nick thinks that anyone who'd enjoy it would be crazy because it burns so much on the way up it makes him think he'll never drink alcohol again.

"Come on Nick, spit it out," Greg pushes, and that's all Nick needs to react. And suddenly, he's glad Greg's bathroom is close by, because he's crawling towards the toilet, trying to hold back the stinging feeling in his throat, and when he actually makes it to the toilet and starts vomiting, Greg's right there beside him, rubbing his back and offering soothing pieces of advice. Nick wonders if Greg got all his domestic skills from his mother, but then decides better of saying it out loud when his body sends him a signal by convulsing and making him vomit again.

Nick doesn't even feel the time go by, and Greg's still there, the weight of his arm plesant of Nick's back. Nick would probably be a little weirded out if he wasn't so out of it. Besides...he kind of enjoys it.

"Should've been a Sanders. We hold our liquor well," so that's why he's not drunk off his ass. Nick wonders if changing his name would make a difference, and then snorts at the thought. "Hey, you don't believe me? I'll have you know..."

"No, no, man, I believe you..." Nick stands to wash his face, and heads to the sink. Greg follows him, placing his hand on Nick's back again and trying to comfort him. Nick catches his eye in the mirror, and finds his answer. The subtext is completely real.

Greg's arms snake around his waist, and Nick feels like he's lost his place as the dominant one. Feeling the need to prove Greg wrong, he turns around and kisses him, proving he's not and never will be "the girl." Not that he's judging or anything.

Things lead to the bedroom, and Nick manages to get through sex before passing out, his arms slithering around Greg's warm body, glistened with sweat. He falls asleep sticky, stuck to Greg, but content. He wills away the regrets.

When he wakes up the next morning, he's pretty sure he's proved his point, that he's not the girl. But Greg has been replaced with a pillow, cold sheets below it, and he revises his thoughts. Greg has proven him wrong, he concludes, as he breaks down and sobs.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2

He goes to work as an empty shell of a man, going as Nick Stokes for Halloween. He doesn't even think he could try to be a good Nick Stokes, probably would end up going as the Nick Stokes right after being rescued from his grave. He snorts at the memory. If he would've known this would happen, he would've much rather stayed there and died.

He thinks he's dead now, anyway.

Greg's not even at the lab, and he wonders why, wonders if he took the night off or if he's too much of a coward to see Nick face-to-face after the night of passion they enjoyed the night before. Or had Greg merely endured it? Was he simply waiting for...

He has forgotten that he woke up at Greg's apartment. Was the younger male simply waiting him out, waiting for him to leave and head home, wallowing in self-pity or whatever it is they call it these days? Nick suddenly aches for the feeling of Greg in his arms, and wishes he would've been sober, because then maybe he wouldn't be so appaled about the fact Greg left, and maybe he could think straight without the hangover migrane he's got going on upstairs.

Nick doesn't even remember that he has tonight off. When called on it, he tells Grissom he has nothing better to do, and takes the slip and tries not to think about that if he were at home, he'd only stay in bed all day, trying to wake up from the horrible nightmare he resides in.

And that's when it hits him. If it was his night off, then it was Greg's night off, too, and that would be the entire reason why he wasn't there, at work. That theory still doesn't explain why Greg wasn't there in the morning. Nick didn't think that Greg would ever be the one to do the whole casual sex, see you at work thing, but he's been wrong about Greg many many times in the past, so he finally decides he's not all that surprised.

He's distracted at the crime scene, not even really paying attention, and he finds himself craving his cell phone, which is sitting in the backseat of his Tahoe, just in case he got any bright ideas on the way over here. And besides, if he went to get it, he'd have to make up some stupid excuse, or he'd have to tell the officer on his scene the truth. And he didn't want the first time outing himself to be under these circumstances.

He decides that if Greg cares about him at all, he'll call or text or leave a voice message or...Something. He's beginning to regret his decision of leaving Greg's apartment. Maybe the ex-lab rat was simply doing laundry. Nick curses himself for not looking for a note, but then thinks that Greg wouldn't do laundry anyway.

He processes, and refuses to think about him anymore.

---

He's off shift now, changing in the locker room, when Warrick comes up to him. "Hey, you alright? You've been completely out of it all night," he waves it away, focused on nothing to stop himself from focusing on Greg. "Man...you've gotta stop this, you're bringing the entire lab down with you," Nick catches him shaking his head and looks, doesn't say or touch or anything, just watches. Watches. Warrick is the most interesting thing he's seen all night, but, no offense to him or anything, but even Warrick is pretty boring when you're ignoring him.

He's still accepting that he hates himself, just nods as Warrick continues talking about Tina and the 98-percent chance that she's going to leave him because of the hours he works. Hears himself talking, doesn't pay attention. Says goodbye to Warrick. Leaves the lab.

He's going through the motions because he wants to keep his mind off him. And he was doing well, up until Warrick mentioned his name. Now it won't stop replaying in his head. The night, the kiss, the sex, it's all there. He vaguely remembers falling asleep with Greg in his arms, smiles at the thought. He's repressed it all night, it's nice to wallow in it again.

He remembers that he didn't care if he'd regret it the next morning. He realizes he doesn't. Even if Greg never speaks to him again, he thinks it was worth that one night of utter and complete passion, the one night he felt whole.

He walks to his Tahoe. Gets in. Starts it. Revs the engine. He stops going through the motions, tries to think of something that's not in his normal schedule. Thinks that going to Greg's the other night wasn't normal; wants to do it again.

Nick thinks that there's something odd about how he feels complete when Greg's lying next to him in bed, thinks that it was probably just the alcohol, but he can remember it and he knows he liked it; he remembers smiling and pulling him closer, nuzzling against the scars on his back.

He cringes. Not a good time to think about how he almost lost Greg. Almost lost any sort of a chance to be with him because of a mistake. He thinks never's always a good time to talk about that kind of thing. Thinks back on his burial, but doesn't want to, so he pushes that away too.

He's still in the parking lot, reminiscing, but now he can't move because something's in the way, and it's a person, he thinks, because it's waving its arms and jumping, and Nick thinks that parking lot is a bad place to do jumping jacks, but whoever it is has caught his attention, and he's intrigued and somewhat amused.

Greg. He's not sure if his heartbeat quickens or stops, but he'd take both as a good sign. Greg walks to the window and Nick rolls it down, staring at his lips and wishing that the night never would've ended. He believes he could've drowned in Greg. Thinks it be okay to do that someday.

Greg's talking about something and Nick can't understand, too busy with watching his mouth move, talk, speak, dance, whatever. Nick enjoys how after every sentence or two, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. Nerves, he thinks, and before he can think he's pulling Greg to him, kissing him, and he knows it's probably an uncomfortable angle for Greg, so he doesn't make it last too long. Hears something about how Greg thought he didn't want him, then hears his own voice softly saying that he loves Greg, and there's a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye, and Nick feels a blush coming on.

He hears Greg repeat it back to him, and he nods to the passenger seat, invites Greg to his house, and doesn't do anything on the way home. Listens. To Greg. His music. His breathing. His thoughts. Anything he can. Nick can't believe it's real, too fairytale-ish, like something you'd see in a Disney movie, but he can't believe it's a dream either, too real. Too Greg. Greg's always confident in his dreams, and this is most definitely the real Greg. He doesn't mean that in a bad way, he thinks Greg's always confident, just...not in the sexual field. Ha. He smiles at his own stupid pun.

He thinks for a moment, then reaches across and takes Greg's hand with a smile on his face, catching pieces of Greg's sentences. "...Note...Neighbors shower...mine's broke...should've called...dead battery...weren't at the lab..." and he smiles, accelerates, and drives home, feeling the best he's felt since he and Greg had sex. He thinks that if Greg and he can work it out now, then they'll be able to work it out for years to come. Thinks that Greg's definitely the reliable one, and maybe he can help make Nick more reliable. Thinks that Greg's pretty trustworthy. That he won't cheat.

Nick thinks that's good enough for him.


End file.
